


belleville uniforms and school supplies

by endlessnighttimesky



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Boys Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-05
Updated: 2013-10-05
Packaged: 2017-12-28 12:42:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnighttimesky/pseuds/endlessnighttimesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the weekend before school starts, which means they're busy as hell. The shop is constantly crowded with well-dressed mother and fathers, all of them tugging over-energetic preschoolers or reluctant teenagers with them around the store, gathering the right combination of shirts, slacks or skirts, blazers, socks and shoes for whatever school they're sending their kids to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	belleville uniforms and school supplies

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have the link, but a few months ago Gerard tweeted about how he used to work at a Catholic school uniform supply shop, and we all know that Frank used to go to Catholic school, so obviously I had to turn this into a story. Dedicated to [Cas](http://archiveofourown.org/users/caspar_sebastian/pseuds/boy%20princess), who I'm pretty sure was one who wanted me to write this in the first place.

Gerard hates his job. 

Well, the actual things he has to do aren't that bad - he can hang shirts and fold slacks and organize shoes after size. It's nothing complicated, nothing he doesn't know how to do.

Something he has no idea how to do, though, is interacting with customers. After all, this is Gerard Way we're talking about, who doesn't leave his basement for anything that's not school, the record store or the comic book shop.

Or that's how it worked until a few weeks ago, at least. Gerard's mom knocked on his door one day and told him she'd gotten him a job. He was slightly confused but also grateful, because at least now he didn't have to go around and hand in his applications himself. Human interaction, and all that.

And he continued to be grateful, but that was only up until he found out where he was supposed to work. Which, coincidentally, happened to be on the same day he was starting there. There, being in the uniform supply store for all of Belleville's Catholic schools.

Frowning at the slip of paper in his hand, he wondered if the address his mother had jotted down was really the right one - maybe she'd screwed up the numbers?

Gerard hoped she had, but then the manager of the store - a Brian… something or other, Gerard doesn't really remember - walked out and asked if he was the new kid.

"I… guess?" Gerard said, still glancing at the store with disbelief in his eyes. When he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the windows displaying all kinds of itchy-looking slacks and shirts, he introduced himself. "I'm, um, Gerard. Way. Gerard Way."

"Yeah, I thought so," Brian said, before he slapped Gerard on the shoulder and led him inside. "Come on, I'll show you around."

So that's the story of how Gerard, between the hours 9 AM to 3 PM every Saturday and Sunday, ends up having to cater to bratty boys and spoiled girls, most of them pouting with their arms crossed over their chests as their parents request this shirt in that size and that blazer in this color. And Gerard can't even tell them to fuck off and go find the shit for themselves, because _the customer is always right,_ as Brian taught him on his first day in the store.

It's pretty obvious that Brian doesn't like this job any more than Gerard does, though, which is comforting in it's own way. Gerard's even figured out that Brian is most likely hiding some serious ink under those long sleeves he insists on wearing, despite it being late August and still hot as hell outside.

Right now, it's the weekend before school starts, which means they're busy as hell. The shop is constantly crowded with well-dressed mother and fathers, all of them tugging over-energetic preschoolers or reluctant teenagers with them around the store, gathering the right combination of shirts, slacks or skirts, blazers, socks and shoes for whatever school they're sending their kids to.

Sunday afternoon, somehow, ends up being a little less busy, and at the moment there's only one family in the store - a mother dragging her teenage son through the aisles, the first looking stressed and the latter looking like he'd rather be somewhere else. Gerard can't really blame him.

Eventually, the boy manages to sneak off while his mom is comparing blazers, and before Gerard knows it he's engaged in a conversation with Brian, because apparently the boy noticed his ink and has some of his own. There are a lot of smiles and wide gestures and Brian is looking slightly confused, casting sidelong glances at the boy's mother because he's not supposed to keep his ink visible in the shop, but the boy is tugging at the sleeve of his shirt, revealing dark lines and bright colors.

"Frank!" The boy - Frank's - mom calls out across the shop, and Brian pulls his sleeve down.

As he turns around to face his mother, Frank's eyes catch Gerard's - it's only for a split second, but Gerard could swear Frank's grin widens, just a fraction of an inch. Gerard, like the socially inept loser he is, finds himself blushing like an idiot, and immediately goes to hide his face in his sketchbook.

He tries to ignore the fact that within the next few minutes, Frank will inevitably come up to the counter while his mother pays for his clothes, which means Gerard will have to face him, something he's not really sure he's capable of right now. He could hide out in the back room, but that feels like it'd be too obvious. And it's not like they even know each other - Frank is just any other customer. 

Except he isn't. Because he smiled at Gerard, fucking grinned at him, wide and happy and Gerard just doesn't know what to do with himself. He tries to convince himself that maybe Frank smiles at everyone, though that doesn't really do anything to calm him down - in fact, it just gets him even more worked up, because all of a sudden he wants Frank's smile for himself, wants it to mean something, something more than just -

"Hi."

Gerard feels his heart jump up into his throat, lodging itself there as he dares to drag his eyes away from his sketchbook, only to come face to face with Frank.

Gerard didn't really get a good look of his face when he'd been taking to Brian, but now it's right there, just a few inches from his own, and _fuck_. The guy is fucking gorgeous, with black strands of hair hanging down over hazel eyes, the sides of his head buzzed and bleached. There are rings through his nose and lower lip, glinting in the light from the lights overhead, and he's smiling. Of course.

"Um. Hi?" Gerard hates how insecure he sounds - because even he can hear it now, the slight stutter and the high-pitched tone - but if Frank notices, he doesn't call Gerard out on it.

"Can I see?" Frank asks, nodding towards the bundle of papers Gerard are clutching to his chest, as if Frank might just rip them out of his hands.

"Why?" Gerard manages, feeling his cheeks heating but deciding to ignore it, just like Frank's mom seems to be ignoring her son harassing one of the employees in favor of talking to Brian about shirt sizes. Gerard can't help but wonder if they've even got a size that would fit Frank - the dude's so tiny Gerard almost wants to ask which middle school he goes to, but that would mean speaking a coherent sentence, and he's not really sure he's capable of that right now.

"Why not?" Frank asks, jumping up on the counter and totally invading whatever scrap of personal space Gerard had left. Gerard wants to shrug away and tell Frank that customers aren't allowed behind the counter (or _on_ the counter, since only Frank's legs are actually behind it), but as usual, he doesn't manage much more than a confused expression and more blushing.

"I'm a curious shit, basically," Frank continues, swinging his legs like an impatient five-year-old, the heels of his Converse bumping against the back of the counter. "Mom says I'm too nosy for my own good but I don't think that's true. Anyway, I just wanna have a look. It looked really awesome."

"You saw it?" Gerard squeaks, sounding horrified.

Frank just smiles. "Yeah, but just a little bit. Looked fucking badass, though, if you ask me. Now, can I see it or not?"

Gerard gets the feeling that he should be happy Frank is even asking - he wouldn't put it beyond this boy to just take what he wants without permission. He also gets the feeling that should annoy him in some way, but honestly, it only makes him more interested.

So, without another word, Gerard hands his sketchbook over, even though there isn't really any reason for him to do so - Frank is a stranger who has no right to ask Gerard for anything, at least not something like this, and sometimes Gerard is reluctant about showing even _Mikey_ his drawings.

His anxiety settles pretty quickly, though, because somehow Frank's smile has managed to widen even further, something Gerard wasn't sure was even physically possible. 

"Not gonna lie to you, man, I know shit about art, but damn, this is fucking _amazing_ ," Frank says, and he sounds truly in awe, like nothing displayed at the Metropolitan or the Louvre could ever compare to what's on the paper in front of him.

"You can keep it." Why he says it, Gerard doesn't really know. At first, he almost wants to be angry with himself, but then again, it's not like he doesn't have a million other drawings of zombies at home. Frank can have this one, especially if he likes it so much.

"Seriously?" Frank's expression goes from incredulous to grateful to ecstatic in about 0.7 seconds, and suddenly Gerard has an armful of tiny teenage punk, Frank's arms hugging tight around his neck. "Thank you so much, dude. You gotta sign it, though."

And here Gerard had gone thinking this would be the end to all his confusion. "Uh? What?"

"Sign it," Frank repeats, holding the drawing for Gerard to take. "Like, your name or initials or whatever, so I can prove it later on when it's worth millions of dollars and you're famous and have forgotten about me."

Gerard wants to say he doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget about Frank, but he figures that's maybe be a little too much for a first-time meeting, so he just nods and accepts the drawing, uncapping a black marker to write his name in the corner with.

"G. Way," Frank reads when Gerard returns the drawing. He looks up at Gerard, expression a mix of confusion, disbelief and impression. "Wait, you're Gerard Way. As in Mikey's brother?"

Gerard's expression mostly consists of only confusion. "You know Mikey?"

"Everyone knows Mikey," Frank says, like _duh_. Gerard can't help but agree. "But he's got a friend named Bob Bryar? Who also happens to be a friend of mine, since we go to the same school and share the same classes and he doesn't punch me when I try to climb him."

Gerard doesn't know which question to ask first. Does this mean Frank goes to Queen of Peace? Does this mean Frank is the Frankie he's heard Mikey talk about sometimes? Does Frank really climb people? God, his socially awkward brain really isn't equipped to deal with these things. Or Frank, for that matter.

In the end, he decides to start with the first question. "So you go to Queen of Peace?"

"Dude, that's why I'm here," Frank says, gesturing widely with one arm, indicating the shop. "Gotta look nice and proper for the first day of school tomorrow. Well, my mom says I do, anyway. Honestly, I'm probably gonna end up ripping all my clothes to shit before lunch."

"Why don't you go to public school?" Gerard asks, because Frank doesn't really seem like your typical private school kid. 

"Beats me," Frank answers, shrugging. "My family isn't even that religious, so I don't really know. They've got good education, I guess, not that I really benefit that much from it. Doesn't matter how good the teacher are if you're not actually in class to listen to them."

Gerard smiles at that - personally, he tends to stay in class, but only in the back where he can draw in peace without anyone bothering him. He doesn't really know what to say, though, so he's sort of relieved when Frank's mother calls on him again, this time to tell him that she's done and they're leaving.

"Looks like I gotta go," Frank says, swinging his legs over the counter and jumping down. Once he's on his feet, he nods towards Gerard's sketchbook, a grin on his face. "Don't tell me you're gonna let me leave without your number."

Gerard, who's been sort of busy trying to memorize the shapes and colors of the tattoo sleeve on Frank's left arm, looks up at him, a little dazed. "What?"

"Your number," Frank says, still smiling. "Can I have it?"

Gerard wonders who the hell hates him so much they set him up for an episode of Punk'd. "You want my number?"

Frank grin grows even wider. "Fuck yeah, I do. I have art to commission."

Chuckling and blushing, Gerard rips off a corner of a page and jots his number down on it. "How are you planning on paying me?" he can't help but ask, curious as to how Frank will answer the question.

Of course, it turns out Frank's answer is nothing like Gerard expected, because all of a sudden he's leaning over the counter, pressing his lips to Gerard's, one hand sneaking up to curl around the back of Gerard's neck.

Gerard doesn't breathe for the first few seconds, and then he's melting. Frank's lips are soft and just slightly damp on his, and his hand is warm, fingertips calloused. Gerard remembers Mikey saying something about Frank playing guitar, but it's all pretty vague, because Frank's lips and tongue are working on getting Gerard's mouth open, eventually succeeding and pushing in, tasting coffee and cigarettes on Gerard's tongue.

"I was thinking something like that," Frank says as he pulls away, though it's barely an inch - their noses are a fraction or two shy of touching. "That okay?"

Gerard feels a little dizzy, and he doesn't want to open his eyes, but he still manages a stuttered, "Y-yeah."

"Good," Frank says, a smile in his voice. "So I'll see you?"

Finally willing his eyes to open, Gerard looks at Frank and nods. "Yeah," he says again.

"Awesome," Frank says, leaning in a last time to steal another kiss, before he's out the door and on the street, smiling at Gerard through the window until he disappears.

 


End file.
